


chamomile, honey, and vanilla bean

by letsdothepanic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21692653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsdothepanic/pseuds/letsdothepanic
Summary: Harry wasn’t sure of how that had become his life.In which Harry is awake in the middle of the night, but glad to be by the fire  of the shared Eighth Year common room with Draco Malfoy’s sleeping head in his lap.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123





	chamomile, honey, and vanilla bean

Harry wasn’t sure of how that had become his life.

As he sunk into the cushions of the sofa that was closest to the eight-years’ shared common room fire, Harry looked down to see Malfoy’s blond head laid down on his lap and dared to smile to himself.

Malfoy was sleeping soundly; he had drifted off with Harry’s fingers in his hair and tears drying on his cheeks. Harry had been surprised to notice how much damage the salt in them could cause to Malfoy’s delicate complexion— leaving his impossibly pale skin red and blotchy even after Malfoy was sure no one would be able to tell he’d been crying— but had chosen not to taunt him about it.

For someone so guarded, Malfoy seemed to be shit at hiding _that_ , at least, and it made him look more human, in a way.

As Harry carefully undid some knots from the tips of Malfoy’s silvery hair (he had begun wearing it loose, instead of slicked back, and that made him prone to tangles, Harry had noticed), he thought about how they had gone from trying to kill each other to _this_.

It was like those had been different people, Harry thought, the boys in the bathroom in sixth year. And maybe it was true.

Harry didn’t feel like _the boy who lived_ these days, even though he’d been called that more than ever in the past several months. He’d had lots of things to think about since the war had ended— or since _he_ had ended the war— and he reckoned Malfoy didn’t feel like _the boy who had taken the Mark_ , either.

At least not when they met late at night by the shared common room fire, when the nightmares became too much and none of them could sleep. On those nights, they would leave their past differences behind, make each other cups of tea — chamomile with honey and vanilla bean, Malfoy like that one — and watch as the logs crumbled into embers; orange, red and gold.

Sometimes he would fall asleep first, and Malfoy would lay a blanket over him. And sometimes Draco would drift off before him, with his blonde hair on his lap, and Harry’s fingers in his hair.

Harry liked those times.

**Author's Note:**

> this drabble was a part of a little fandom anniversary event i started on tumblr, months ago. i’m slowly transferring those fics over here, and i thought this one deserved its place in my archive.  
> hope you’ve enjoyed some drarry fluff! 
> 
> comments are very welcome, here or on [tumblr](http://letsdothepanic.tumblr.com) 💖


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